


Enough

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Menstruation, Misgendering, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Trans, Trans Bucky Barnes, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 01:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19163398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bucky's sad and trans and so am I.Trigger warning: read the tags





	Enough

Bucky groaned, rolling over onto his side as he pressed an arm to his stomach. He curled up, tears threatening to spill as another wave of pain rolled through his abdomen and threatened to make him sick. Short of magically having the body of a cis guy, there was nothing that Bucky wanted more than Steve, but unfortunately he was out doing fuck knows what.  
  
Actually, Bucky was supposed to know what. Steve never did anything without telling him since HYDRA, but Bucky was half conscious and all pain when Steve left earlier that morning. Instead of returning the kiss, he mumbled an "okay" before turning back over and winced as the shutting of the door made his headache worse.  
  
He should probably text Steve, but he didn't want Steve to see him like this - messy and dirty and crying and _hurting_. God, it hurt so much.  
  
Sure, it was physical. Bucky always had painful cramps and migraines every time his period hit. Sometimes they were so bad that he threw up and couldn't make it to school so Steve was the one taking physical care of him for once.

But this... this pain carved deeper than that. Every rush of blood, every squeeze of pain was a slap to the face, surrounding Bucky with reminders of _femalefemininegirlwomannevergonnaberightnevergonnabeenough_. He hated them with a burning passion, hated how small and miserable a little bit of blood made him.

* * *

Actually, it was a lot worse than what his mind made it out to be.

* * *

 _Menorrhagia. Men-or-rage-ee-uh. Two r's, one n. Heavy or prolonged vaginal bleeding with the menstrual cycle._  
  
His ma and all of his sisters were always heavy, and menstruation wasn't exactly a hot topic in the 30s, so he never knew that his periods weren't normal. At least, until the 21st century.

* * *

He was complaining about it to Natasha over dinner before she cut him off.  
"Dude, that's not normal. You need to see a doctor."  
  
As soon as the word doctor left her mouth, he tensed up. Nat made one of her invisible frowns as she recognized his apprehension.  
"You should, at least, I'll do some research, make sure you're more informed before you decide on anything."  
  
The tension in Bucky's shoulders let up microscopically. Since HYDRA, he couldn't handle a lot of things, but nothing triggered him like lab coats and a white room. On a few occasions, he'd stubbornly agreed to be sedated for a few checkups with Stark's assistants, but a hospital (with huge floors and loud strangers and mixed noise and bright lights and running doctors new patients new faces the Asset doesn't like hospitals)? He didn't think he could manage. He knew he couldn't do whatever Nat recommended, but he gave her a small smile for at least trying to help. Her face softened in return.

* * *

Well, never say never.

* * *

Fast forward to three weeks later and his stomach was in knots as he made his way to the clinic, repeating the checklist in his mind.

  
_Periods lasting more than seven days, heavy bleeding, intense cramps, changing a regular pad or tampon every one to two hours for several consecutive hours, fatigue, interference with daily activities._  
  
_Progestin IUD - hormonal birth control inserted into the uterus to prevent pregnancy. Lasts up to 6 years, reduces heaviness of periods and PMS symptoms._  
  
The appointment would be short, just an explanation of his symptoms and a sympathetic doctor and another appointment for insertion and then he would be done.  
  
The appointment should have been short, just an explanation of his symptoms and a sympathetic doctor and another appointment for insertion and then he would be done.  
  
The aftermath was anything but. His newfound GP dismissed his concerns, constantly calling him 'she' and going on about 'women's healthcare' no matter how many times he insisted that he was male, thank you very much. The visit ended with her giving him worse dysphoria than before, a placating smile and a shitty pamphlet. The pamphlet waxed poetic about every kind of birth control (save for the kind he needed) and how it affected ladies and women like himself!

* * *

He burned it the minute he got home.

* * *

But the flames burned a little too low and scalded his fingers but damn him if he didn't love it. He could sit and watch the flickering ashes of his shame burn all day, but he had tears to cry and pain to feel so he turned the tap on and watched the remains of the traitorous reminder go down the drain.  
  
As he watched _femalefemininegirlwomannevergonnaberightnevergonnabeenough_ swirl around the sink the reminders floated up, up, up and around his head in spite of their heaviness and when did he start crying?  
  
_(never gonna be the man he wanted, never gonna be the guy Steve deserved, just a mess, a disgusting mesh of metal and monster and no man in sight, always gonna be girl/woman/ma'am/miss/lady, inadequate disgusting freak trash mistake mistake mistake)_  
  
The cold press of his metal fingers against his flesh arm matched the chill of the tiles because he was on the floor now and tears were streaming down his face (enough to drown in) as his fingers dug deeper (deeper, deep enough to grab all the unfitting parts and rip them all out and shut out those god awful reminders once and for all) and there was noise but if it was his gasping or sobbing (or begging, begging for those damned reminders to go away) he couldn't tell.  
  
So that's how Steve found him, curled on the floor with blood dripping from his right arm as he was sobbing and mumbling something that sounded like a prayer and a whisper and a plead all at once and God, what kind of soldier was he that he couldn't even hear Steve come in?  
  
Still, the cold bite of his metal fingers were being replaced by the familiar warm roughness of Steve's and 'Come on sugar, can you let go for me?' followed by 'There you go, sweetheart' took the place of his sobs and 'Take deep breaths, come on Buck, in and out, just like that, you're doing so well' stood in for his gasps until finally, finally he could breathe again and-

* * *

oh God, Steve saw him like that, fuck, he didn't mean-

* * *

"It's okay Buck, it's okay, just focus on me, yeah? You're safe, I promise, it's just us."  
  
Bucky cleared his lungs and took in a few more ragged breaths before managing to break away from Steve and turned around enough so that he could look at him if he wanted to (he wanted to but the shame hurt pierced clawed at him and he couldn't meet his eyes) but he didn't, so he looked at the floor instead.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Steve tilted his head, looking at Bucky with those damned eyes and Bucky knew that if he looked up now it would all come tumbling out and he couldn't (wouldn't shouldn't) let that happen "Sorry for what?"  
  
Bucky sniffed, wiping his face with his aching arm. "For not, God, Stevie." Because what could he say that didn't already lie between them? "For not, for being... I'm sorry for not being the guy you deserve."  
  
The words fell in the space between them and Bucky could hear Steve quietly sigh, from (love or sympathy or annoyance) what, Bucky couldn't tell.  
  
"Buck, sugar, you're guy enough for me.  You know I love you too much to lie to you."  
  
_His eyes didn't leave the floor they couldn't shouldn't_ but they did. "Why'? It's 20(you pick the decade lmao I've only seen five Marvel movies) and you're Captain fucking America. You're built and beautiful and could charm half the state with a smile. You could have any guy, hell, any person, that you want; why be so sweet on this fucked up guess of a guy?"  
  
Steve gave Bucky a sad smile as he brushed his hair out of his face. "Because you're my guy, and the best damn one at that." He moved forward to kiss Bucky's forehead.  
  
"Let's get that arm taken care of, yeah? Then we can go to sleep and pick up where we left off when you wake up, but maybe not on the floor this time."  
  
Bucky's face twitched in what Steve knew to be one of his tired smiles and they (man and man and mess between them) somehow got to the bathroom.  
  
Steve talked about his day as he cleaned and dressed Bucky's arm, cracking jokes and doing his best to lighten the atmosphere and Bucky loved him to no end. When Steve was done, he pressed a kiss just above his work and worked his way up to Bucky's lips.  
  
"Love you," he mumbled against them, and Bucky felt like he could melt.

* * *

He wished he could feel like that now.

* * *

He felt awful but painkillers didn't do shit for him and _God_ , where the hell was Steve? He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain and focus on anything but the guy he wanted (and wanted to be) but speak of the Devil, because the guy in question just came in.  
  
"Buck, I'm home."  
  
Maybe he was desperate, maybe he just wanted something to do, but Bucky managed to let Steve know where he was before he got too worried. "Bedroom," he called out weakly.  
  
A few moments, then the creak of the floorboards, then "Oh, Buck." Steve did something that sounded like taking his shoes off before crossing the room and sitting down next to Bucky. "Did you eat today?" Bucky held up two fingers, their sign for yes.  
  
"That's good, honey. You mind if I get in with you?" The fingers didn't move, so Steve lifted the covers and slid in next to Bucky in a sort of sitting up position. Bucky rolled over and sat next to him, face pressed into Steve's chest and arms wrapped around his torso, relaxing in his familiar warmth.  
  
Steve smiled, running his right hand up and down Bucky's arm as his left went to thread through Bucky's hair. Bucky groaned at the comfortable familiarity of Steve's fingertips at his scalp and he leaned more into him.  
  
"Long day, huh?"  
  
Bucky hummed in agreement, falling more and more into sleep's grasp.  
  
"Get some rest, sweetheart. We can catch up later, yeah? Gotta make sure my guy's up to talking first, though."  
  
Between the soft touches and subtle validation and affectionate names Bucky felt so loved and real and _there_ that he could cry.  
  
"Love you, Stevie."  
  
"Love you too, angel."

* * *

And maybe he wasn't all that he wanted to be, but in that moment he felt like he had enough, and that was good enough for him.


End file.
